Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
“Well, the virgin part isn’t true. I lost it to Jimmy Fitzpatrick during my senior year of high school.”
“One time, Noelle. You slept with a guy one time. Obviously, he didn’t know what he was doing because your pussy has grown cobwebs since then from the lack of use. Let loose. Have a little fun.”
“I don’t think your idea of fun is the same as mine,” I grumble.
It’s true Briar and I are not the same. She likes men and embraces her sexuality. She’s a woman who knows what she wants and never gets attached, breaking hearts and leaving broken men behind in her wake. Briar is a man whisperer. The crusher of the coldest heart.
“Let’s get you a drink. Maybe that will loosen you up.”
“Or maybe you shouldn’t drink because it can get you into trouble, especially in a room full of wolves waiting to devour you,” I mutter beneath my breath.
“I heard that,” Briar says as we walk through the crowded room, holding each other’s hands.
She drags us into the kitchen. It’s the most crowded space in the entire house, which is ironic because you wouldn’t assume a bunch of frat boys and half-drunk sorority girls would be interested in hanging out in the kitchen. This isn’t like the kitchen parties my grandmother described to me as a child, where she and her friends gathered around talking about their annoying husbands and obnoxious children.
Briar delves into a giant round tin bucket and fishes out two beers. “Here.” She thrusts one toward me. “Have a few of these. It’ll help you chill out.”
My hands shake as I remove the twist top and tip the bottle to my lips, taking a swig. At first, it’s sweet, but then the bitter flavor of alcohol takes over my taste buds. I’ve never been a fan of booze. I’d rather curl up on the couch with a big mug of hot chocolate and lose myself in the fictional world of a good book.
“Briar Rose. Little miss sleeping beauty herself.” The voice belongs to Malachi Frost, a creep who’s been chasing Briar all year. “Why don’t you bring your pretty little ass over here where my buddies and I are. I promise we’ll show you a good time.”
Briar glances at me. I’m not sure if she’s asking permission, if she wants me to get her out of the invitation, or if she’s inviting me to join her in beating the shit out of Malachi.
“I don’t know. I’m with my friend. It wouldn’t be right for me to abandon her.”
“I'll keep Noelle company.”
“That’s so nice of you, Peter,” Briar says, turning to me. “Is it okay if you hang out with Peter for a while so I can have a chat with Malachi?”
I’m not a fan of Peter’s, but he’s relatively safe. The guy isn’t gonna overstep when he wants me for my connections to my father. I’m pretty sure he realizes that if he tries anything funny, my father won’t be too keen on taking any meetings from him.
I wave Briar off. “Yes, but please be careful.”
Briar blows me an air kiss. “You’re the best.”
“And for the love of God, please watch your drink. I don’t care who these guys are, you can’t trust them!” I yell after her.
Chapter 8
Lorne
“He’s not coming,” Declan says.
His hands are buried in his pockets as he shuffles his feet back and forth. He didn’t want to come tonight. He wanted to stay in his room and beat the shit out of himself for being who he is.
“Can you blame him? He loves you, Declan, and you love him. The sooner you admit that to yourself, the easier our lives will be.” I take another drag of my cigarette before tossing it on the ground and crushing it underneath my Italian leather boot.
“It’s not the love I have a problem admitting.”
I know, but his problem is like the elephant in the room: none of us know how to address it or fix it. So we do what we know; sex and violence.
I clap my hand on his back and shrug. “We’re all a little fucked up, man. Rejection is hard for him.”
Declan gazes up at the sky, refusing to meet my eyes. He’s focused on a dark cloud, or maybe the moon, some fragments of a fatherly figure he never had and always desperately wanted.
“Nothing’s up there, Dec. Your entire life, they’ve made you believe in an invisible man in the sky who’s going to bring you a reward or subjugate you in hellfire. It’s all a fucking lie. Every single ounce of it. A fabrication created to gain control.”
“We’ve all got our coping mechanisms. Mine’s hope.”
“The thing about hope is that it's not something someone can give you. Hope is something only you can give yourself.”
“Well, look at you getting all philosophical.” Cas appears with a shit-eating grin.